


Lost Gods: Libertus

by birdsandivory



Series: FFXV Drabbles [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Catharsis, Libnyx, Light Angst, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Post-Canon, the glaives deserved more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: It hurts, having lost Nyx and Crowe to war.But what hurts more is their ever-present need to haunt him when he sleeps.





	Lost Gods: Libertus

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this five hundred years ago on Tumblr and thought I should bring it here because I really do like it, actually. I'm not really sure if this was supposed to be a series or not, but it's a nice short for what it is.

“Does it hurt? Being alone?”

He opens his eyes and the world is white.

And he can remember the things he does not wish to, can feel the emotions he cannot bear to, and yet — all that he yearns for is _there_.

As is she.

Crowe is a vision before him, her fine, dark locks in waves — falling around her like the tears he’d cried proceeding her untimely death. Looking to her now, he can barely keep himself tethered, hardly keep his heart whole; she is more serene than she’d ever been in life, her eyes wider, her smile cheerful. 

“Not as much as I thought.”

She does not answer him for a long moment; she seems somber, lashes looking to the ground with her gaze. And it does not take him long to understand, to catch onto what she is thinking, because as much as the deceased glaive believes herself a mystery to Eos — she is an open book with pages frayed. “Do you miss him?”

The rush of a far off memory comes to him in the most painful of ways. His senses are overcome with the smell of cologne, the sharpness of canines in a smile, and confidence that lived on for ages after the vessel had long disappeared. Libertus feels his bottom lip quiver, and he tries to hold tears back with worrying incisors, tearing his eyes away from the sight of the woman he’s always cared for as blood, knowing now that his body is the only one left with crimson in its veins.

The Astrals were merciless.

With the quietest of admittances, he nods, and his hand holds fast over his beating heart. “Yeah.”

“Me, too.” She replies immediately, because she already knows the answer — she always knows — and his head snaps upward, though absent is the usual pop of his neck, and he’s surprised to even hear the words. He would think, after all, that she and the one they both miss share the beyond together.

“Don’t you get to see ‘im?” He wants to feel the jealousy of not being able to perish with them, of always looking to the sky and sighing sadly because they are above whilst he is below, but she does not allow him the chance.

“Not really.” Crowe’s voice is lacking amusement, lacking sorrow, and instead — she states her thoughts as fact, as though they are a principle that always has been and always will be. “He awaits the king.”

Libertus feels his lips parting, but no words escape, only harrowing breaths. 

Had the king not fallen? 

Had Noctis truly survived? 

“Awaits the king?”

“He _is_ the hero.” He expects then that he will receive no answer, and as she steps forward toward him, he feels his lids become heavier — and it isn’t until she reaches him that her words ring once more. “Now, wake up, _Captain_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
